Untitled
by kirylin
Summary: Just a slash piece I was working on some time back. Based on the movies, not the books.
1. Part 1

I spent some time earlier today reading an LOTR slash site. They have an area for just about every pairing you can think of, so I chose to focus on the one that interests me.  
  
What particularly got me was how the stories seemed to all show Aragorn as the aggressor and Boromir as the one shrinking away. I'm not sure why that seems odd to me, but it does. The stories all ended tragically, which is about what I would figure, being as Boromir is the archetypal tragic hero.  
  
If I would write a slash piece for LOTR, it would be Aragorn/Boromir, and it would be based off the movie's interpretation of the books. Any fan fic I would attempt would be off the movie's interpretation because it just doesn't match what I see in my mind when I read the books. It's almost like a whole other place that is easier to go after. I can understand why people say they are writing Mortensen/Bloom fic instead of Aragorn/Legolas. The movies really did stray a bit.  
  
With that said, here is the beginning of my own attempt at an Aragorn/Boromir piece:

He watched the man walk away, his mind a swirl of emotions. So many feelings had played through his mind lately. The proud man had been on his mind much lately, presumably because Aragorn could see where the pride was leading him. This incident with Frodo was just one more piece of evidence that Boromir was not the same man who had left Rivendell with the Fellowship. Aragorn was concerned.  
He noticed Frodo looking at him with a concerned look. He assured the hobbit that all was well, and sent him to join Sam and the others. Frodo also walked like one under a great burden, but that was to be expected, and it almost didn't affect the exiled king anymore. His eyes continued to follow Boromir, although he wasn't sure which of the many reasons in his head was the correct one.  
The past few nights had seen dreams of Arwen replaced with dreams of Boromir, causing the ranger to wake up panting and sweating, Dreams that had been filled with visions of a woman as lovely as a starry night were now filled with images of a man who stared at him in strange, and often confusing, ways. Looks that Aragorn had interpreted as Boromir trying to make himself accept that the man before him was indeed who he claimed he was. Several nights of confusing dreams were making the ranger wonder if he had misinterpreted those looks. Even stranger was the fact that he was starting to find himself considering his own reaction should he be proven right, almost as if he expected it Recent days had found him watching Boromir as he went through chores, watching the way he moved, his spirit, his dedication. Yet he could also see the cloud that had been gathering around Boromir since the Council. It pained him to see, knowing there was little he could do to stay the proud man from his path, to know that he could lose him because of that darkness.  
He realized the oddness of his line of thinking as the thoughts formed themselves. The fear of losing Boromir, a man who would probably be just as happy if Aragorn dropped off the face of Middle Earth but had been a fierce battle companion. Despite Boromir's public feelings about him, Aragorn was grateful he was along.  
Realizing he had been off for too long, the ranger made his way back to his companions.

Dinner was fairly quiet that evening. Aragorn seated himself back from everyone and looked around at his companions. Everyone else was broken into little groups, except Gandalf, who was absent...not uncommon for the wizard, who seemed to be more preoccupied than normal. Aragorn looked at the way the Fellowship had clustered. As was customary, Frodo and Sam sat together. He chuckled as he realized Legolas and Gimli were sitting together. However, it was the last grouping that caught his attention, not for the first time. Merry and Pippin were sitting with Boromir. The three had grown close on this trip, Boromir often looking after the two hobbits like a father. The thought, and the accompanying emotion, startled Aragorn. It wasn't the first time this particular emotion had visited him on this trip, either. The last time he felt it, it had been while watching this same group of three. They had been training the younger hobbits to fight, which had led to the hobbits taking Boromir down the only way they knew how. As the three wrestled about on the ground, he had laughed but was very aware of a small twinge of jealousy at the edge of his mind. Tonight, that twinge returned, weighing greater on his mind. He cleared his mind of the thought, and continued with his meal.  
When they set the watch for the night, Aragorn agreed to take the first shift. He kept a low fire going, hoping it wouldn't be noticed by Sauron's allies. Alone with his thoughts, he started contemplating the situation with Boromir again. It was starting to become hard to ignore his own feelings, and he found himself hoping that they would be reciprocated. He heard the crunching of snow behind him and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. The footsteps stopped right behind him.

The past few days had been very trying on his heart. He was not a logical man, given to reacting before thinking. He left the logic to Gandalf and Aragorn. But his heart had been pulled in many directions over the past few days. Part of him heard the call of the Ring, which had led him to try to take it earlier that day. Part of him felt the need to protect something. Too far away to be much good to his people, he had taken to protecting the hobbits, a move that had proved interesting as it had earned him two chatty, well-intentioned acquaintances. Part of him felt a need to understand the ranger. An attempt to believe the man's claim was leading him to other, darker thoughts. But were they really so dark? Was it really so wrong to desire a closer relationship with this man who fought alongside him?  
He looked toward the center of the camp, to the fire and the lone figure tending it. The low fire outlined Aragorn in a way that made even his smallest movements graceful. With a deep sigh, Boromir left his bed to follow what appeared to be the least dangerous of his desires.

Aragorn turned, starting to rise to meet the newcomer to the fire ring.  
"I'm sorry to have startled you."  
The ranger breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his companion. "It's not time for the watch to change. What has you awake?"  
Boromir walked around the fire to sit opposite the ranger. "I couldn't sleep, and thought I might join you."  
Mindful of the thoughts rushing through his head, Aragorn could only manage, "Of course."  
The two sat in an awkward silence for several minutes until Boromir finally started, "The path is getting harder on the little ones."  
Aragorn hoped that the drooping of his shoulders was not noticeable. Finally alone with Boromir, he had hoped the man would offer an explanation, not discuss the hobbits. Perhaps he had misread Boromir, after all. "Gandalf thinks we are in for rough weather."  
"That won't make things any easier. Perhaps we should take Gimli's advice and go through Moria."  
"Gandalf seems to think we'd be better off staying away from Moria, although I cannot discern why."  
"Ah," was the most Boromir could get out. He had a biting rebuttal trying to get out, but for some reason he couldn't say a word. He found himself staring across the fire at the ranger, whose head hung weary. Slowly, he moved around the fire to sit beside him. Aragorn looked at him, surprised at the move, awash in the emotions flooding his head at suddenly having Boromir so close. His mind wondered at the man's intentions. He wasn't left wondering for long.  
"You look tired. You should have slept and let me take the early watch." Boromir's hand slowly rubbed his shoulders as he spoke softly. Aragorn felt his eyes close as his shoulders slowly relaxed under Boromir's touch. Slowly, he turned toward his companion, only to find Boromir staring intently at him. He had noticed the fire in the man's eyes before, but had never noticed the genuine warmth. Perhaps that was a reflection of his current feelings. Aragorn didn't get much time to contemplate the reason for that warmth as Boromir leaned into him and kissed him gently. Startled at first, the ranger realized that he was indeed correct in his earlier analysis of his companion and slowly melted into him. Time seemd to slow to an eternity until the two finally pulled apart, only to sit in an awkward silence again.  
Footsteps came upon them from behind.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Boromir. I thought I had the next watch."  
"So you do, Legolas. So you do." He stood. "I think I'll try to see if I can get back to sleep." Boromir walked back to his bed.  
Clasping the elf on the shoulder, Aragorn headed off toward his own bedroll to what he knew would a night of very interesting dreams of Boromir.

Okay, so maybe this piece can stand alone as is. grin 


	2. Part 2

(setting: Lorien, immediately following Boromir's speech)  
  
His eyes were aflame with thoughts of restoring glory to Gondor, but through them he noticed Aragorn's face aswirl with various emotions, ranging from surprise to confusion to admiration. God, the moonlight touched his face, emphasizing his weariness. Boromir wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort him.  
It was Aragorn who broke the silence, "Lords?" He wasn't sure he had heard Boromir correctly. He had been so firm in stating that Aragorn had no business in Gondor, and had openly refuted the ranger's claim to the throne This speech, both in its words and its spirit, was not within the man's character.  
Briefly, Aragorn considered the effect of the Ring on Boromir.  
"Well, yes. I suppose you have some right to be in Gondor." The walls were coming back up already. Aragorn considered this weakening very carefully. He was getting some interesting mixed signals from his companion, made worse as Boromir turned to face him again.  
"I'm sorry. That was awful of me." He stood and paced a semi-circle around Aragorn. "So much is going through my mind lately." Aragorn nodded, assuming he meant the quest, but Boromir continued and the ranger realized just how vulnerable he was.  
"I can't stop thinking about Caradhas, and yet I am sorry for it. I should not have forced myself on you like that." The emotions on the ranger's face resolved to an amused confusion. Boromir paused, unsure of how to interpret Aragorn's reaction.  
Aragorn stood to join him, clasping his shoulder, "Boromir, you needn't worry." And he turned Boromir toward him and kissed him. Happily surprised, Boromir returned the kiss.  
The two walked into the wood.  
  
At one point during the night, it occured to Aragorn that his dreams of recent nights were coming to life.  
  
The next morning, the air was filled with awkwardness. And it wasn't so much the interaction between Aragorn and Boromir, who seemed more at ease with each other than before. It was the interaction between the couple and the Fellowship and the populace of Lorian.  
Aragorn seemed unchanged, but Boromir walked with a renewed pride in his step, with the vigor of a man a decade younger. Those who were used to dealing with the moody, confrontational Boromir were finding themselves caught off-guard. Even Merry and Pippin were avoiding the man for fear he'd simply cracked.  
Naturally, the couple missed a number of the glances aimed at them. As the morning wore on, Aragorn became more aware of the way he was regarded by Legolas, Gimli, and the Lorien elves. Finally, he pulled Sam aside, determined to find out what the looks were about. Fortunately, Sam had little use for secrets.  
"Well, Strider sir, you were the last one to see Boromir last night. We all figured that whatever illness gripped him may have gripped you, too."  
Aragorn chuckled at that.   
  
Okay...that'll do for now....I'll finish it later...


End file.
